


DIFFERENT

by goatz



Series: DIFFERENT [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/F, F/M, LMAO, M/M, Multi, background ships, matsukawa and hanamaki are best bros but if you squint they might be dating, might, tags to be updated, tags will be updated as we go!!, yeah theyre dating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25438429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goatz/pseuds/goatz
Summary: This world was unforgiving. He knew that. He knew that, but..A deep exhale rattles from Tendou as he stands and moves over to the door. He tugs on it once and twice, and he finds that it opens. His brows disappear underneath his bangs, and he frowns. They know better than to leave, but… He quickly glances at Bokuto for a second, before he reminds himself that he has to hide his face. Tendou knows better than to display emotion, to show attachment. He knows.But if he knows, he asks himself, why does he keep getting attached?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kozume Kenma, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Series: DIFFERENT [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842553
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> power au! try to figure out their powers if you can, ahahaha  
> foremost, thank you for clicking on this and even bothering to read it/having interest!!! 0:!!!  
> this is my first fic for haikyuu and i'm SO excited to get going, as this AU is SO dear to me and something i ADORE working on!!

**DECEMBER 18 - 8:00 PM.**

The ball bounces. It hits the floor, then the wall, before flying through the air and making its way into a hand. The action is repetitive, predictable - it hits the floor, then the wall, and meets the hand again.  _ Bounce, bounce, bounce.  _ A never ending cycle, it seems. The outcome will be the same each time; maybe slightly higher or faster than the last, but he’ll look out for every discrepancy, focus sharp and controlled.

As he watches the ball with cat-like eyes, his thoughts seem to align together, and he can’t help but to compare the human mind to the ball. Greed… Anger… Sadness. Happiness, joy, pride. All emotions evoked by feelings and actions being born from said feelings. An endless cycle by its controller - a circle, bouncing again. And again. And again.

Red hair falls down over wide eyes as crimson pupils stalk the ball in the circular movement, the said object darting away from the body only to return to the starting point. The redhead briefly catches the ball, long and pale fingers wrapped around it, before it’s launched back towards the ground.  _ Power… Accuracy. _

The cramped room is devoid of color, a bleat gray, the ground cracked and dry. The concrete of the room is threatening and strong, holding up with no chance of fleeing. A silent threat to keep its occupants inside - a warning of injury, or worse. A rundown couch sits next to the wall, adjacent from where Tendou is sitting. 

The couch itself is old - a deep green, washed down from usage from who knows where. Springs that should be tightly coiled are making their appearance from rips and tears, and cotton pops out from the seams. Each time someone were to sit, a rip would make itself deeper and longer, the sound of tearing fabric echoing in the room. He tries to ignore the fact that it sounds like the couch is pleading for the weight put on it to get off. The cotton from the couch itself is just barely able to touch the ground. He glances out of the hair that’s covering his head, just falling over the same cat-like eyes towards Oikawa, reading the very magazine that the brunette’s memorized front to back.

Dust itself makes home in the room - a footstep shaking the ground like an earthquake; able to push the dust away as if it was ashes in a fire. The dust itself is not a friend or enemy, Tendou has to think. Here, it has made a home. Would this count as him invading or trespassing? Would this be considered him being in stolen land? Or would it be him clearing out the danger, the exact stuff that enters his lungs and his everyday breathing cycle? Something that slowly eats away and intends to control his ability of health - wellness in check or sickness around the corner?

With a few beats of the ball bouncing, off the floor, off the wall, and then back into his hand; well, Tendou decides that he can’t make a final decision. The world is not all black and grey, and he knows.

His eyes dart back over towards the roof, and an eerie pit makes itself a scavenger in Tendou’s stomach. He tries to ignore the fact that the government doesn’t let them have outside media - he knows better than to question. Questioning leads to curiosity, and curiosity leads to rebellion. Rebellion leads to disaster and disaster leads to death. He knows. The world, the government, and the environment surrounding Tendou  _ aren’t _ kind. He knows. He ignores the scars littering his arms.

The last time he tried asking for his hair to be up instead of down, he got sent towards one of the Red Rooms.  _ Who knew that asking for a simple hair gel was going to cost me my skin and add a few new scars _ , he notes, a dull afterthought, defeating the purpose of ignorance. It seems that his insecurities over scars seem to have won yet again. The Red Rooms, though… He never wanted to go back; he didn’t hate his hair  _ that _ much. He was fine with having it down, he was fine having it cover his wide eyes. That’s what he kept telling himself. He just wasn’t sure if it was working anymore at this point.

He knew the rules now, he knew not to ask. As much as he loved pushing buttons, as much as he loved annoying those around him, he learned the rules just as quickly as anyone else did here. Even if that meant he didn’t really get to know new people often. He knew that asking for something,  _ anything _ , was disrespectful in this place. He was a prisoner, not a person. They made it clear. If you wanted medicine, you had to steal it.  _ And not get caught _ , his mind bitterly adds. The people; the government here - they wouldn’t spend their precious money on the DIFFERENTs that reside here.  _ Reside? Or help prisoners?  _ He shakes his head to get back on thought. He has to stop bouncing the ball, even.

After a quick one over and calming an upcoming headache, he returns to his first line of thought. The ball continues to bounce.

_ Bounce, bounce, bounce. _

Even a blanket wasn’t allowed on some nights. Something about saving funding… In short - he knew when to shut his mouth and comply with the rules.

Anyways, Tendou wasn’t dumb enough to be upset at an article of hair that could grow back or be cut. Maybe he wishes he could be given a beanie, at the least. He would’ve been grateful for that. Even being alive is something he should be grateful for, at this point, though. He’s not gonna count his luck. A brief thought passes his thoughts - he wonders what the fashion is out like there, out in the wild.  _ Wilderness, or freedom? _ At least that was a benefit of being with the government, though. He didn’t ever have to struggle with making his own decisions. That was a plus.

Even the memory and knowledge of what knowing hair gel is could be considered pure luck.  _ You should be grateful _ .  _ You should be grateful.  _ The voice in his mind seems to be making yet  _ another _ appearance. He freezes, yet  _ again _ ; the ball stops bouncing for just a minute. It allows for peace so Tendou can calm his thoughts; a process to silence it altogether. He has to control it, make sure that he has free rein of his thoughts once more. He resumes bouncing the ball after a few shallow breaths. He knows better.  _ Bounce, bounce, bounce _ .

He needs to get a better grip on his own thoughts, he thinks. The ball has been stopped way too much today. He feels like sighing, but existing for now will have to take the cake.

In another upside, however, he supposes it does add to his whole “Guess Monster” persona the government has made for him. His hair, he means. The wild look on his face with wide eyes, the bright red hair, the crazy bowl cut. His body’s on autopilot, as he continues bouncing the ball; paying no mind to a spider scuttering across the roof from one of the cracks that litter the ceiling.

The four of them - Kuroo, Oikawa and Tendou for now - are kept in one of the cellar holding rooms. The group is lucky enough to be part of Alpha Squad - they at least get to be put together as they wait for the fourth member of their group to come out. He’s probably in the Red Rooms now, Tendou thinks. They’re probably doing testing on him as usual, to see how much his bones can handle before they decide to snap and break.

A little bit of sympathy goes out towards him, the red haired boy thinks. He  _ does _ feel bad but Tendou also thinks he’s glad he’s not the one being tested. If there’s an uncomfortable sensation crawling in his gut at the thought, he pays it no mind. The redhead briefly thinks back to the spider. He has to think about something else, before he starts thinking of the ways of torture.. He doesn’t want to go down that path. Not now, not later, not tonight, not tomorrow. He knows, though.. It’ll come soon. 

Ah… The costs of being a government weapon.

There’s an old bookshelf that occupies a corner of the room. There’s a few books there, but they’re only dictionaries and thesauruses that Tendou has read out of pure boredom. He hasn’t touched any of the books there since his first read, and has long since grown used to the smell of dust filling his lungs. Aside from the two articles, they have a few magazines that remain in the corner of the moldy bookshelf, and in a specific order. 

Because they belong to Oikawa, Tendou isn’t even surprised at the fact that they’re clean. Tendou  _ is _ appreciative of that, at least. He supposes he could probably read them once or twice and be glad that, even while they’re old news for them, the articles are spotless. He doesn’t have to worry about dust blinding his eyes and sending him into  _ another _ coughing fit at the surprise attack it delivers. His poor lungs don’t need the stress.

The sound of pacing fills Tendou’s ears, and he looks over towards Kuroo, the man in question glancing to the single door that connects them to this series of cages. Tendou looks back down, and continues bouncing the ball in his hands. It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fortunate to even have a ball - the government is  _ not _ kind, he’s not stupid enough to think otherwise. He’ll have to accept defeat there. 

He’s grown used to doing that.

Tendou sees Oikawa glance at him and Tendou notices,  _ he always notices,  _ but he pretends not to. His focus hones in on the little noise in the room. The ball continues to bounce.  _ Bounce, bounce, bounce _ .

A sigh breaks the tense silence, and soon after he startles at the sound of a magazine being slammed shut. Oikawa glares at both Kuroo and Tendou, before Tendou smirks and looks away with a whistle.  _ I’m innocent!  _

“Tetsu-kun!” Oikawa starts, placing the magazine carefully onto the broken couch. He crosses his arms and smiles at him, almost a nastier expression than the one before. “Would you please stop running around like a headless chicken? I’m sure that Bokuto-kun would be very happy to see it, but it’s stressful for the rest of us. Tendou-kun might turn you into noodle soup,” he adds, before he shifts his arms from across his chest to resting on his hips. He narrows his eyes at Kuroo, a tightly-clenched jaw giving away his frustration. 

Kuroo looks at him out of his matted hair, and scoffs back at Oikawa. Tendou continues bouncing the ball, uncharacteristically quiet. The static in his brain grew louder by the second.  _ Bounce, bounce, bounce. _

Kuroo stops pacing though, and Tendou notices Oikawa relax out of the corner of his eye.  _ It seems as if he got what he wanted _ , Tendou notes. A sneer is resting on Kuroo’s face, however, so Tendou guesses more is going to happen. “I know that,” Kuroo says, putting a hand on his hip. He hesitates, then scoffs at his own actions, seeing how they resemble Oikawa’s. He readjusts, and instead gestures with his hands. “I know that.” He repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tendou raises a brow. Was that all?  _ That’s… Definitely mild for Kuroo _ , Tendou notes.

Oikawa stares at Kuroo for a whole point two seconds before he’s throwing his own hands up - “fucking simps, man! All I want to do is fucking read, and you’re over here pacing around the room like it’s a goddamn marathon! For the love of god! Mister Kuroo-chan, silence your annoying footsteps!” Well, he had seen this coming. Tendou scoots back and watches with an interested expression. He holds the ball for a moment, silencing the bounces he previously made. “I’ll give you an erotic pat on the shoulder from Bokuto-kun out of appreciation for your worrying! Does that satisfy you? Would that make your itty bitty dick spring up in happiness?”

Oikawa fixes his gaze onto Kuroo, who holds his stare for a few moments, before he scoffs and looks away. Tendou shifts his eyes away from Kuroo as well when his stare turns towards him in a silent plea for help.

The tension is  _ slowly _ starting to diffuse, and Tendou continues the bouncing. After a few moments, a sigh erupts from Tendou instead, the second noise he’s made all afternoon, with the first being his whistle. He almost scares himself with the noise - or maybe he simply feels that he  _ should  _ be startled - but what follows is a sense of detachment. Tendou is a little surprised he’s been quiet for this long, though. He guesses today is just… One of  _ those _ days.

It’s the sudden bang of the door against the wall that ends up making Tendou jump and drop the ball, the object rolling to the other side of the room, hidden underneath the decrepit couch. Tendou briefly watches it for a moment before he refocuses himself back towards the present - a body thrown onto the hard floor, blood splattering around the figure, blood falling onto the floor and staining it, a startled yell that leaves Oikawa, an “Oof!” as air pushes itself out of Bokuto’s lungs.

Tendou quickly stands up. He frowns, his eyes widen. Everything that had been lurking below the surface was now bursting into the forefront of his mind, a familiar burning clawing at his chest. He has to hide his emotions, hide his emotions, hide his emotion-

Kuroo is the first to take action, instantly kneeling next to his boyfriend’s side. He looks up at the guards and  _ growls _ at them, slowly putting his arms around Bokuto and pulling him close. The guards sneer at them, before the door is slammed. Tendou guesses they’d be in here for a few more hours at most.

Oikawa breaks the silence first and hurriedly says, “I guess you could say you were… y’know, right, for uh. Worrying.” 

Kuroo looks up at Oikawa and narrows his eyes with a deadpan look plastered on his features, before grabbing Bokuto’s hands. The silver-haired man attempts to shove him away to no avail as a series of broken whimpers leave his lips. Kuroo’s attention switches from Oikawa to his boyfriend in under a second, softly shushing him. 

“‘Kuto, come on now,” Kuroo says, trying to control the shaking in his hands. “Don’t push me away,” he says. His voice sounds oddly stuck in his throat, as though struggling to cough something up. 

Bokuto turns his head away from Kuroo, away from the light. His eyes are squeezed shut, wheezing as he struggles to simply  _ breathe _ . The cut above his eye is bleeding profusely, blood running down the side of his face. Droplets race down and land into his hair, dyeing white a stark red. Some run down and depart from the main flow of blood down to his face, onto his nose, and drips into his mouth.

His teeth chatter as a chill runs through his body. His eyes won’t open, and he fights against leaning into Kuroo or away. Tendou bends forward and watches him for a while, frowning. Anybody could read that he doesn’t want to get blood on Kuroo, despite Kuroo’s ramblings of “I don’t care if you do,” and “I love you, please, come on,” among other things.

Oikawa leans over nearby, keeping a distance behind Tendou. A sense of uncertainty is shared among the two - every so often, one of them appears as though taking action, before faltering and stopping midway. Tendou sighs and glances over at Oikawa - guilt is written all over his face. This isn’t good.

With a brief one-over, Kuroo is able to prod Bokuto’s mouth open, checking for signs of internal bleeding. They know it hurts - having bones hammered until they break and snap isn’t something any of them would want to happen, but with their line of…  _ work _ , they know it would. Someday, they’d become desensitized to this. 

_ Would that be better or worse?  _

This world was unforgiving. He knew that. He  _ knew  _ that, but..

A deep exhale rattles from Tendou as he stands and moves over to the door. He tugs on it once and twice, and he finds that it opens. His brows disappear underneath his bangs, and he frowns. They know better than to leave, but… He quickly glances at Bokuto for a second, before he reminds himself that he has to hide his face. Tendou knows better than to display emotion, to show attachment. He knows.

But if he knows, he asks himself, why does he keep getting attached?

Well. Tendou supposes if he gets caught, he could just erase the memories of the people around him. He might die for it, but he doesn’t exactly care at the moment. He’ll do what he has to in order to- 

No, he shouldn’t think about that. He knows the risks of doing this, that he could lose the only people he’d ever been able to confide in.  _ You shouldn’t have to worry about that _ , a voice in the back of his mind shouts. He shakes his head as he opens the door. 

Oikawa’s head snaps up. “Tendou-kun, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He growls out. The voice of Kuroo giving support to a crying Bokuto drowns out as Tendou has to roll his shoulders back and stand up taller.

“Well~,” Tendou starts, sounding uninterested. “Who knows?” He opens the door and leaves. A forced, light laugh makes its way out of his throat.

And, well, if Tendou returns in a few minutes with a newly formed scratch bleeding on his own arm, and looking exhausted, none of them say anything over the sound of Bokuto wheezing out his breath. Tendou hands Kuroo the first aid-kit, and pads over towards the couch. He leans down, ignoring the blood traveling down his arm and dropping onto the ground. He reaches underneath the couch, slim fingers wrapping around the blue ball.

Tendou returns to his original spot, and refocuses on throwing the ball. None of the four say anything over the sound of bandages being undone and applied, with the panting and whining of Bokuto filling the room.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi does his job and then accepts death

**APRIL, 17 - 9:34 PM.**

The fingers around the cigarette reposition themselves as the cigarette is brought up higher and higher, until positioned against flushed pink lips. The guard lets out a sigh as the hand pulls the cigarette away in two fingers, smoke coming out with the gust of breath he exhales. The warehouse behind the guard is bouncing off the great silver of the moon, reflecting a light hue for the eye to adjust to - something for the guard to use to aid sight.

On to his left, about ten feet away, stands another guard. They’ve been given the duty to guard this warehouse and the contents inside… Whatever that is. He’s not asking. It’s just a job so he can make money and protect his kids, his wife - his family. He  _ knows _ it’s dangerous - duh, that’s why they have guns. Speaking of which, he has to reposition it as he brings his hands down to jostle said gun. He has to work with it a little bit until he finds it being comfortable resting against his chest in a nearly ninety-degree angle. It’ll have to work for now. He’s just glad it isn’t hoisted up all the way for him to aim something out of - that means he’d have to shoot, and shooting means he’d have to kill someone… He doesn’t want that on his conscience. 

His beautiful daughter, his handsome son. His stunning wife, who works so hard at home… He lets out a wry smile at thinking about the loves of his life. He would do anything for them, and he knows that he would. Without hesitation. Anything for them, he knows it. If they wanted a million dollar house, well, fuck it. He’d work his entire life off for them. Which… God, he needs to quit smoking one of these days. He can’t live life to its fullest if he dies by fifty. Stupid fucking companies. Stupid fucking addictions.

He flicks the cigeratte out of his hand with one last exhale, and then watches through the smoke rising as it falls to the ground. He narrows his eyes and then takes his foot and stomps onto the cigarette, pushing it into the ground. He rubs his foot into the ground, smashing the light out, and making the cigarette into nothing but a grey ash.

Another sigh erupts from his chest, a gust of air escaping through lips; no longer tinted with an ashy flavor. He looks over towards the male that stands roughly ten feet away from him, the two put in front of the building’s entrance. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, before he waves a hand up and looks at the other man. “Hey, Miyuki-kun.” He starts, “I’m going off for my break.” Miyuki gives a nod to the current guard. He turns around and starts walking out of his position, and towards the building.

He wonders what he should make for dinner tonight.

He’s halfway through the building when it happens, just barely within earshot. In the corners of his eyes, he sees the choking, hears the sound of someone gurgling on blood. Aware and surprised, he whips around and his hands lock securely around his gun. He points it up towards where his co-worker once was. 

All that remains is a whiplash pile of dirt, showing signs of a possible scuffle going on. He squints and moves forward, body tense. The moonlight that seemed to beam so bright above him at one point no longer serves the same purpose. The darkness seems to shrink in on the man, and he is unable to see the difference between the heart screaming in his ears and the darkness seeming to corner his eyes.

The first thing he does is stay still and listen, body tense and ears alert. His eyes are flicking back and forth to spots in the ground, tension flowing in his body like an endless river. A dam spilling over it’s edges, pouring, roaring. 

The sound of a branch snapping behind him leaves him jumping and whipping around, the gun heavy in his arms. He lets out a shaky breath, staring at the branch. It just must be a wild animal, he guesses. 

Then, a realization comes up into his mind, and he has a grimace on his face. Of course it’s a prank, god damn it. “Miyuki-kun,” he starts, rolling his shoulders back as relaxation starts making itself known in his shoulders. Like a cotton ball emptying water, he slowly relieves his tense positioning. “If this is your idea of a goddamned prank, you better take it back before I whoop your ass!” He growls out, sounding more humorous than he does actual anger. His eyebrows raise up higher onto his face before he pads over towards the stick, letting his gun lay against his hip as he lowers himself down to look at it.

He might as well observe if Miyuki-kun is making this into a game, he thinks. If it’s snapped, he can assume Miyuki just fuckin’... Threw his leg onto it, or somethin’. He doesn’t know for sure. Maybe he just stomped his foot as hard as he could, and took off running. Miyuki seemed like the type of guy to do that, and honestly he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. The two of them had played pranks on each other in the past, and this wouldn’t be the first or the last time it happened.

He squints once again, staring at the branch. He doesn’t register the sound of footsteps behind him, nor does he notice until the last moment that an arm secures itself around his neck to keep him in place. When the knife drives itself into his throat, well; he guesses that this really  _ is _ the last time he’ll play with Miyuki-kun.

The sound of him choking onto his own blood as a knife drives itself into his neck is the last thing he ever hears, as his eyesight goes white, to red, in a series of flaring pain. All of that - then, nothing. Blackness. Silence. Darkness.

-

It’s the sound of a deep sigh that exits his mouth as Iwaizumi lets the dead weight of the body slump from his arms and fall down onto the ground. It lands with a thud and Iwaizumi nearly flinches, but instead focuses his eyesight onto his arms instead. His expression changes to one of disgust instead, trying to ignore the red now making its home on his arms. He then continues to bend over, and wraps a hand under the arm-pit of the still warm body. With a quick glance over, he can tell that the cut to the throat was a clean one, and he has to give himself a round of applause on his back.

With a grunt, he gives the body a tug to see how much it weighs, before he’s easily able to drag it towards the darkness and darkness. Another series of grunts leave him, before he is grabbing a trash bag out of the dumpster nearby and chucked the corpse. He ignores the wet sound of the second body hitting the first, ignoring the name-tag. He really wishes the second guard hadn’t said the first man’s name - it makes it harder to kill, harder to do his job. 

He doesn’t like it when they have names, personalities, backgrounds. It makes them  _ human _ . He can’t do his job that way. They go from targets to victims.

He shakes his head to get himself refocused, and then looks down at the bodies. He grabs one of the trash bags he originally removed and throws it on top of the bodies. He wants to scoff, but finds himself unable to. He can’t be bothered to do that. This coverup job isn’t his best, but it also isn’t his worst. 

A hand reaches up to his ear and Iwaizumi presses on the earpiece. This time, he  _ does _ scoff into talking - “Rendezvous point A has been cleared. Bodies have been hidden and covered, and we are ready for exit at any time.” He looks over towards the opening of the warehouse, where the two guards were once positioned. Iwaizumi’s breath catches in his throat for a moment, clenching a hand on reflex. With a sigh, he starts into the ear piece, “Returning to hiding point.” His voice comes out more as a grumble into the dark air around him, as he walks towards the dumpster and hoists himself up onto a wall.

He stands on top of it, before he hoists himself onto the roof of the warehouse and then makes a few series of leaps to stand on top of a nearby billboard. It holds an old advertisement, the paint peeling and the metal rusted from the rough weather of being outside. He can’t exactly tell what the advertisement is up close, but he wonders if he can ask Shirabu about it later. The sniper is probably watching him, but he can’t be sure.

The darkness, in this area, is an ally it seems. He is able to feel comfortable at his advantage point, and has an eye on the dumpster in order to be able to see if anyone should come up and mess with the bodies inside or start being  _ too _ curious. The warehouse itself is a big grey one - it seems new, and he supposes the inside looks much better. His eyes dart up to the entrance to the air vent system, and as his own curiosity pokes a stick in his side, but he can’t be bothered to move from his position. 

The static in his ear is what alerts him back, and the earpiece starts talking. “Affirmative,” a deep voice bellows in his ear. “Rendezvous point A cleared.” Iwaizumi looks down and rechecks his gun that’s attached to his thigh, as he waits for the voice to continue. “Nishinoya and Tanaka will continue forward. Kageyama and Shirabu are to continue to stay on guard.”

The set of the voices that whisper “Affirmative!” into his ear almost has Iwaizumi stepping back from how quiet they are, how shrill they are. He ignores the way his hair stands up on his arms and he instead chooses to continue looking forward, to continue staying focused.

The next thing in his ear is the quiet static in his ear from Tanaka and Nishinoya who confirm that they’re currently in the vents of the building, and Iwaizumi forces himself to raise an eyebrow at their antics. Despite the duo being  _ extremely _ loud off missions, they are able to actually be some of the sneakiest  _ and _ stealthiest people he’s met on the grounds. He’s glad that they have those two goofballs in the group, despite their sometimes brash actions. Out of the entire group, the two are able to be some of the sneakiest, thus why they were given the role they were.

His eyes dart down to his gun again and he has to check to make sure it still works - which, duh, it does. Yet he has to bring himself to do it, has to bring his hands to mess with something in the eerie silence of the night surrounding him. At least he’s doing his job, unlike the now dead guards. At least they can go to the afterlife, being glad they stayed the post they were stationed to.

Iwaizumi watches the building with intensity in his eyes, as he glances back over towards the forage of the nearby forest way behind him. If he really wants to, he can barely make out a shine of a light if he squints. He briefly wonders which light is Shirabu, and which one is Kageyama, but he can’t be bothered to try and guess. He only knows two things - he’s glad they’re on his side, and he knows they’re both badass. At least  _ one _ has respect for him.

His eyes flit back towards the opening of the warehouse, and then they travel up the wall. The entrance of the vents move, and Iwaizumi has to watch it for several more minutes to make sure his eyes weren’t just seeing things in the darkness. When it moves again, he narrows his eyes and as far as he knows, only Nishinoya and Tanaka are in the vents at the moment. His hand reaches back up to his ear again, as he presses down on his ear piece.

“Oi… Kenma,” he says. His voice comes out barely above a whisper as his hand reaches towards his weapon. His hand latches around the gun, and he gives it a tug; making it fall out of the handle. His hand holds it as he readies it, in the case of bullets needing to be drawn. “Do you see this?” He glances behind him before he looks forward.

The goggles on his face light up into a dull grey, as a photo of Kenma in the top right of his vision appears. Cogs and wheels show up, as Kenma starts working through his goggles to see what he’s seeing. “Can you zoom in?”

The circles that were once sitting still now zoom forward, and Iwaizumi sends a prayer to whichever god let him have his lifestyle. He’s never been as glad as he is for now.

The vent moves again, and Iwaizumi squints at it.

Kenma simply scoffs as he looks directly at Iwaizumi through the screen rather than focusing his attention towards whatever is making the vent move. “Move closer.” 

“I can’t leave my post,” Iwaizumi starts, looking at Kenma. He is a soldier who was trained to follow his orders, and his commanders were Daichi and Sugawara. They made it very clear for that this uncover mission to work, like all of their other ones, that they had to work coordinated as a team and work together. Something like how… He used to put it. With that speech Kenma hated so much, about brains coming together and working like blood, or something like that. He doesn’t know for sure, he’s forgot it. It’s been too long since the speech had been done. However, Iwaizumi’s body moves forward anyways, despite his protest.

“Iwaizumi-san,” a voice says. Iwaizumi instantly recognizes the voice as Shirabu. “You may go forward. I will watch your post.” His voice is calm as ever, flat and simple.  _ Very straight to the point _ , Iwaizumi notes. He seems forced to assist, and Iwaizumi almost wants to laugh because of it. Everyone knows how Shirabu is, though, so Iwaizumi instead settles for a smirk to form on his face instead. He decides that he’ll have to thank Semi later.

And, well, if anyone asks if he flinches as Shirabu sends a warning shot into the billboard behind him, he decides he’ll deny any accusations. He decides he’ll have to kill Semi later.

Iwaizumi inhales deeply as he pushes himself off of the post, making the short drop back onto the roof. He drops off back to the ground, making no noise but a grunt. He puts his automatic that he had gotten out back into the holster around his thigh, and instead switches for his pistol and knife. He puts the arm of the pistol over his other arm with the knife as he moves forward, his pistol aimed and the knife held for striking. Ken,a’s gaze is focused on the vent as a circle follows it and Iwaizumi can only assume the kid’s doing some kind of thermal vision through the wall. If you were to ask Iwaizumi, he wouldn’t know or even has the real audacity to really care about the whole technology thing. That’s more so Tsukishima and Kenma’s job.

Iwaizumi pads forward and then slips his gun into his pocket so he is able to hoist himself up onto the ledge nearby the vent. He has to hop up onto another ledge to be able to move forward and goes towards the vent. And well, as he lifts it up, he looks instead.

And if he nearly screams(read: does scream) because of the rat in the vent, well, he’d end up denying that later, too.

-

**APRIL, 18, 1:03 AM.**

It’s a sigh that leaves Iwaizumi, chest heaving at the intensity of it. He heaves himself into the camo truck, willing himself to ignore the full body blush that he gets thanks to Matsukawa and Hanamaki as they poke fun at him.

“Awww, Iwa-chan~!” Hanamaki coos, fluttering his eyes. “Did you get spooky wooky by a babey pwetty wat~?” Matsukawa has to literally cover his mouth with his hand to hold in laughter, looking away. The truck starts to pull away from the warehouse behind them.

Well. The former warehouse. Iwaizumi personally hasn’t blinked another eye behind him at the warehouse behind him, now crumbled to the ground in a series of ashes grouped into piles. The fire that burnt it down is angry and roaring, soaring higher and higher into the night’s sky. The piles of soot take over a once cement ground, turning grey into a dull black. Iwaizumi ignores the sharp burning of burning flesh making its way into his nose.

Iwaizumi instead looks away towards the inside of the truck, clicking his teeth and he tries to  _ will _ the blush forming on him to go away. It’s already a deep embarrassment, starting at his chest all the way to his face. He thinks he’d die if it went to his ears.

“No, no, no~,” Matsukawa scolds Hanamaki playfully. “It’s more so, he got scawwed by a whittle bitty wat, so bad he fell onto the ground~!”

Hanamaki smirks at Matsukawa, trying to hide his teeth from  _ fully _ showing. If he’s gonna fuck with Iwaizumi, he might as well enjoy it. “We are  _ good _ people, Matsukawa. We have to be much kinder, y’know! It’s more so he got the poopies scawed out of him by an itty bitty mousie wousie!”

Iwaizumi fully snaps as he reaches over and grabs their collars, shaking them violently. “Shut up!” He cries, the blush unable to be stopped. It’s too powerful, and he’s accepted getting a new gravestone the moment the scare happened. He’s long since accepted death.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa share a look before their twin gazes fall onto Iwaizumi. They snicker for a moment, before they remain unfazed by the physical interaction. “What happened to the stone-faced Iwa-chan~?”

Iwaizumi lets out a deep scoff as he untightens his fists, thus releasing them as he mutters out, “Die.”

Daichi glares at them from the passenger seat up front, and eventually Hanamaki and Matsukawa end up simmering down from their own fit of giggles of the incident. Daichi lets out a deep sigh before turning to Nishinoya and Tanaka, watching the entire thing with laughing smiles on their faces. Sugawara continues to look forward, driving the truck down the deserted traill, until they make their way onto a lone street. The fire ends up disappearing behind the trees behind them.

Daichi then ends up turning around towards Nishinoya and Tanaka, and suddenly the atmosphere switches from one of joy and comfort to serious and tense. Shirabu and Kageyama switch their attention to cleaning and fixing their guns, despite not needing them for tonight’s mission. Previously, they had been quietly watching the interaction between the three, before they looked towards the other trio when Daichi turned around. Iwaizumi doesn’t blame them for giving themselves something to do with their hands. He wishes he had something to do with his hands, too.

Daichi looks at the two expectantly. “Did you get the file?”

Tanaka and Nishinoya nod, as Nishinoya starts talking. The mood relaxes again as he starts going off about how awesome he was in there. “... And then, we hoisted ourselves up towards the roofs, right as someone was walking right underneath me!” He throws a hand back as his head falls backwards, letting out a loud laugh. “And Ryu was all like, “We got this bro. Why are you worrying, bro?” And then I was all like… “Yeah, you’re  _ so _ right, bro… That’s so epic of you, bro!” And then we totally did it! We’re so awesome!”

Daichi looks faintly amused, as does Hanamaki and Matsukawa before Iwaizumi ends up switching his glance over towards Shirabu and Kageyama talking about… He doesn’t even want to know. He glances back towards Nishinoya and Tanaka and looks down at his hand as he squeezes it. His heart twists painfully.  _ They sounded a lot like… Bokuto, Kuroo and... _

Iwaizumi lets out a deep sigh as he looks out the window behind him. He shouldn’t think about that.. He shouldn’t think about  _ him _ . He just wishes they were at the base already, because he’s never wanted to sleep more. However, he unfortunately knows that the debriefing once they get back comes first. He’s not stupid.

He puts his chin on his hand, his arm against the window, and simply closes his eyes. He forces himself to ignore the feeling of crusted blood on his arm, of the feeling of thrusting a knife through flesh; cutting through said flesh. He can ignore it. That’s fine. He’s gotten used to doing that. Killing, harming, doing his job. It’s fine. He’s gotten used to it.

-

**APRIL 18, 3:02 AM.**

Iwaizumi hadn’t even realized that he had fallen asleep before he was being shaken awake. A small frown forms on his face as he blinks away bleariness and yawns. He gives a slurred,  _ thanks _ , to Hanamaki as he steps out of the car and starts walking towards their hideout. He reaches a hand up to rub at his eye, exhaustion forming on his features.

Their hideout is an old building in a rundown part of some old town. Iwaizumi only knows the name “Mikitdo City,” by heart due to where the base is for now. Well. Not only base, but his own living quarters as well. He sighs as he reaches his hands back behind him and pops his shoulders and back.

The hideout, in general in quiet. As usual. The town is quiet, too. Only elderly people live around here other than them, and there’s a few groups of teenagers, kids, and toddlers. Other than that, it’s a poor and quiet rundown town. Many haven’t even heard of the city to begin with, which helps with hiding and working undercover in peace.

As the small group makes their way to the building, Iwaizumi notes that Shirabu and Kageyama are eager enough to want to get inside. Iwaizumi can’t bring himself to blame them. He knows how grueling this job is by first person experience, but he guesses that keeping watch of an entire area has to be quiet, too. He wouldn’t be surprised - they did have a lot of land to cover tonight. Iwaizumi is just glad that Shirabu was showing mercy tonight, so he didn’t end up getting nicked by the bullet he sent his way.

As usual, too, Nishinoya and Tanaka are quiet after chatting their heads off about the mission, and they follow behind the main group as they slowly make their way towards the building. Sugawara pulls the car around out back as Daichi keeps the package in his hand, and Iwaizumi pays it no mind as they walk into the ivory-ridden old building.

They walk in, building deserted. It’s very rundown, as shown outside and inside. Dark green fills the floor with chalky leftover cement as an overlay on the ground. An old chandelier hangs from the molded ceiling, falling apart. The original paint that was used to paint both the roof and the ground is now peeling off and falling to the ground in clumps. Old reconstruction tools are slanted against the inside of the building - new wood, old paint. A few barrels are also tacked around on the ground, with painting supplies or other construction supplies laid ontop of them.

Iwaizumi glances up towards the second story, with the balcony to look down on the once grand building. He’s been musing over what this could’ve been, and he thinks it could’ve been an old hotel or fancy inn - something that looks nothing like it once did. It’s now filling up to the title of the name of Mikitdo City - rundown, forgotten, lost. Iwaizumi tries not to note how that oddly fits him, too. It’s lost in his mind as the group continues on forward, the dark night making its way inside through the windows that loom over Iwaizumi - the stars seem to be saying hello again to him, and Iwaizumi has to fight away the comfort that eases its way into his muscles.

Instead, he refocuses his attention onto the rundown state that the building is in - inside and outside. It’s absolutely perfect for what Iwaizumi and everyone else here is doing - they call themselves here HQ!!, which is simple enough and catchy, in Iwaizumi’s opinion. He likes the name - it’s short, simple, and to the point. They’re working in a HQ to get work done - at least there’s  _ some _ order going on in this world.

Iwaizumi’s mind wanders as he makes his way through the place, staring up at the ceiling as the group makes their way forward. He has to agree somewhere in all of the thoughts shifting through his mind that Sugawara and Daichi did a beautiful thing by choosing this place. At least Iwaizumi knows he can sleep easier at nights with the risks of being invaded much more minimum. Invaded by what? He doesn’t think he wants to really know, if he’s being entirely honest. The thought process of his should be kept to a minimum, he thinks. It’s no good that he overthinks and gives himself dumb anxiety. 

He knows better, especially in this working environment. Giving him anxiety leads to overthinking and overthinking to anxiety and anxiety goes to struggling with actions, and in a field where quick actions and a quick thought processing needs to be made, he knows better than to wind himself up. It’s no good for him, and the others he’s working with on the field. By being a liability to himself, well, he knows that he’s a liability to the people around him. He knows it’s the last thing everyone wants, especially him. He has to keep a straight head, and he knows.

He didn’t realize his pace had come to a slow, and he forces himself to pick up his walking speed in order to at least trail in the back of the group. He shrugs off his bag with his own assault rifle in it, in order to relax his strained shoulder from the weight, grunting as he holds it up instead of having it sling over his shoulder. A sigh erupts from him again, and Iwaizumi thinks he might have done that more than ten times tonight. It at least feels like it - and he can’t help but think, even if it isn’t ten, he’s been doing it a lot lately. His hand finds its way rubbing his head, a headache coming on at full speed. It’s almost worst than the headaches he got from…

No, he’s not going to go there tonight. That’s why he’s doing what he’s doing now - he knows, again, not to overthink. It wouldn’t help anybody at this rate. He refuses to go there - at least, not tonight. He knows that he’s going to have to maul through his feelings tonight. Ushiwaka, Akaashi, and Kenma all feel the same way. They know what he’s going through, and if it’s bad tonight, he knows he can talk to them. There’s no need to ponder tonight, there’s no need for struggling through a night again over something he’s lost enough sleep about.

Besides, Iwaizumi knows - if  _ he _ was able to deal with Iwaizumi and all of their friends, Iwaizumi has zero doubts that he was okay. He was alright, somewhere out there. Iwaizumi thinks he’ll leave it at that, in terms of thoughts. He doesn’t… He can’t. He can’t overthink.

He rolls his shoulders back again, groaning out in pleasure through his throat at the popping in his shoulders. The group is lead by Daichi and Sugawara towards the back of the building, and Daichi opens a door in the back. It leads to a small room, full of nothing. Iwaizumi can’t help but think that maybe this was a closet in the past. Iwaizumi looks up and sees Daichi and Sugawara smiling over something, and despite exhaustion on the group truly settling into their bodies, the setting turns from bored to light. The light feeling almost gets Tanaka and Nishinoya going, if it wasn’t for their bones feeling heavy and eyelids feeling like a ton.

Daichi simply kicks the floor three times, and then the room lights up upon the third kick. The room lights up into a blinding white, that has Iwaizumi squinting. The white travels up from the roof all the way to the bottom, showing that the “closet” room was an illusion - an elevator is put in place instead. The group waits for the elevator to descend after Daichi clicks the button down, and they fall into another silence. The clicking of Kageyama scoffing at his gun is all that’s heard.

Iwaizumi rubs the back of his neck, then travels up to the head. He hates how he knows whats coming - the debriefing has always been the hardest for him, personally. He sighs, yet again, surprise surprise - and his mind wonders again. With how far this group has come, especially in this field, he guesses he can be happy with the fact that he’s simply alive. He’s not going to fight the cards of luck - he’s grateful, always. It gives him another day of rest to keep moving forward, and he guesses he should be proud at that factor to begin with.

The elevator descends lower into the ground, for the next few beats. As the door opens and Iwaizumi exits, he looks over towards Akaashi and thanks the DIFFERENT, before making his way through the room.

The room they’re in is a more fancy lobby - something that actually looks like a grand hotel entrance. Plants are scattered over the lobby, getting light from the artificial lights that are implanted into the ceiling above them. Hanging plants also greet the people that exit or enter the elevator - and to the left of the lobby is a grand room with several seats. The cafeteria always serves good food. To the right of the lobby is Daichi’s office, tinted windows that Akaashi is able to control at any given time.

The front of the lobby is a desk, with keys behind it. It goes all the way from key number one, all the way to key number one thousand. There’s a door to the left of the keys on the hanger, and Iwaizumi walks towards it, exhaustion seeping in through his bones. He steps behind the desk and reaches up for the key - his number is nine hundred and seventeen - it’s so absurd, so no-one would think of choosing it. And, well, if he stares at that number one longer than he needs to, he doesn’t say anything.

He opens the door and then walks down the hallway, hearing the soft click of it closing behind him. He’ll have to go to the locker room first before the debriefing. He wants to get into more comfortable clothes, and preferably smell better. He’s glad that Daichi is understanding and knows that. Iwaizumi doesn’t look behind him as the group scatters for a moment - and they’d probably get back together in probably half an hour to two hours. Iwaizumi doesn’t know, at this point, to be honest.

He walks down the long hallway and is unsurprised to hear the quiet chattering of Kageyama and Shirabu behind him, with the barely yelling voices of Nishinoya and Tanaka. Matsukawa and Hanamaki probably went to grab something to eat as a snack, or Matsukawa went for a smoke and Hanamaki went to join him to talk. He can’t be bothered to think further than that, mind slowing down, but he knows for Nishinoya and Tanaka that they’re probably in the cafeteria. Iwaizumi should probably stop off at his room first before he goes to the showers - so that’s what he does. The spiky-haired brunette continues down the hallway, and looks down at his shoes as he stops in front of a door. Iwaizumi clicks his tongue as he unlocks his door with his key, and steps into the darkness.

He flicks the light switch on, looking up at his room. He ignores the photo that lays down instead of standing up. It’s been like that for years. Iwaizumi grunts as he puts the gun down next to the start of his bed, and sighs softly as he grabs a few clothes to change into after his shower. The lockerroom is already stocked with towels and the cleaning product HQ!! uses, so he’s not worried about having to bring custom hair conditioner. He also hasn’t used that in years.

He looks sighs as he starts to exit the room after doing a quick double check - the room is still the same as ever. His baby blue bed, his dark pine walls, a light brown carpet. His walk-in closet is still the fine, with his little clothes he actually uses whenever they go out into public. The rest, his mission clothes, are hidden in his dressers - hidden away from the blind eye to see. He’ll put his gun away, later.

Iwaizumi leaves his room, closing it behind him. He locks it, just in-case. It’s a bad habit, at this point. He can’t help it. He walks down the hallway again, back towards the lobby, but stops about half-way. He opens this door and walks into it, the lockerrooms. The clothes that had been thrown over his shoulder provide a sense of comfort as he puts it down on one of the towels he pulls out from the rack. He puts the towel down first, and then his clothes.

He steps into the showers after he had undressed, and takes a shower. His thoughts range from that night with the mission, and he scoffs at nothing as his embarrassment takes form as a flush on his body. He’s  _ so _ going to get Hanamaki and Matsukawa back for their teasing. They’re  _ so _ dead to him.

He ignores how he subconsciously scrubs harder at his skin as he thinks of killing the two guards.. The two guards who had their own family, their own people to take care of. The two guards, who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, the two guards who just happened to be regular people, the two guards that had  _ nothing _ to do with it, the two guards that-

Iwaizumi flinches as he looks down at his skin, now a blazing red rash from scrubbing too hard with the wash clothe. He blinks at it, as water races down his face and onto the floor beneath him. He idly watches as soap is sucked down the drain.

Iwaizumi sighs, as he reaches over and turns the shower off, and walks back into the locker room.

With a quick drying, he dries himself off with the towel and then shoves his clothes back onto his body, before exciting the room. As he steps into the hallway, he looks at Yamaguchi and Tsukishima as they walk by. He greets them and gets a wave from Yamaguchi but nothing from Tsukishima as they continue walking down the hallway. Iwaizumi shrugs before he continues on his own way. He walks back into the hallway and goes the opposite towards the duo towards the lobby. He pulls the door open and slides his key back onto the hold as he leans back and pops his back.

As he walks towards Daichi’s office, he looks over and sees Matsukawa and Hanamaki come into the building and join him into the Daichi’s office, which confirms his earlier thoughts - the two must’ve been outside. If Iwaizumi spots a new bruise on Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s lips looking more swollen than usual, then, well, he doesn’t say anything.

Iwaizumi walks in first, with the other two following him in. He looks and sees Nishinoya and Tanaka already present. They haven’t changed out of their clothes and Iwaizumi joins the wait with the other four as they wait for Sugawara and Daichi.

Iwaizumi’s eyes drift up to the screen that’s in front of the table, on the wall from the projector. He thinks to himself, chin resting on his hand as he hums to himself for a moment, Iwaizumi’s eyes sliding across the room as he takes in its surroundings.

Daichi’s office, as they had come to nickname it, was a regular meeting office. They called it Daichi’s office over time because he has been present in every single meeting, major or minor.  _ Given he’s the leader, that’s understandable. _ Iwaizumi thinks. His eyes flutter away. Even towards the beginning, when he and Oik-

Daichi opens the door, making Iwaizumi jump out of his thoughts. He blinks rapidly in order to calm his beating heart, making a tsk sound before he focuses on the screen in front of him. He can’t help but wonder what kind of information the group had gotten from the warehouse this time. He rubs at his nose at the sudden flash of burning flesh, and looks forward.

Daichi looks over at Iwaizumi, almost as if he saw him jump, before he walks fully into the room, and around the table. With a few clicks on his phone, Daichi links his phone up to the projector, and starts the presentation.

“As we all know, we will go through what DIFFERENTs are, just like we do with every other meeting.” Iwaizumi has to resist rolling his eyes, but sits silently.

Nishinoya seems to notice his discomfort, and smiles widely at Iwaizumi. “Listen, he has to go through it so the readers reading know the background! We can’t let them go without hanging on too long, of course no-one will read this if they’re not sure what they’re reading!” He puffs out his chest.

“Yu!” Tanaka starts, scoffing at Nishinoya. “Daichi told us not to fourth wall break!”

Nishinoya sticks out his tongue at him, before apologizing to Daichi whose looking at them with a glare on his features.

“ _ Anyways _ , as I was saying,” Daichi starts, clearing his throat. “A DIFFERENT is a person who was given powers through genetic mutations after a comet flew through our skies, as you all know. The word DIFFERENT has each word to its meaning - dark, inhuman, freak, fake, envious, regret, empty, numb, and threat. These words were given to DIFFERENTs through society and hatred, since they only see the outside of DIFFERENTs… Successful missions mean screen time for famous DIFFERENTs, which are government weapons. The public does not know they’re government weapons, however. They only believe that they are celebrities with powers.

“The process of a DIFFERENT levelling up their power will be explained another day, but DIFFERENTs are people with powers anywhere from one power to five.” Daichi ends. “Power rankings are one to ten… We don’t know what the government accepts, but we believe it’s five through ten. Our goal at HQ!! is to rescue government weapons, including the four we know of.” He rubs his chin, as if thinking he forgot anything else. “... I don’t think I forgot anything else,” he adds. “at least for now.”

The group nods, listening to Daichi. “Anyways, we will go through what evidence or files we found at the warehouse tonight. Kenma has completely erased any evidence of our tampering with their coding, and double checked by Tuskishima.”

Sugawara and Daichi glance at each other, sharing looks on their faces. Iwaizumi chooses to ignore it.

The slides that they end up going through tonight shows nothing that they’re looking for, but it does show information of drug heads or gang heads with their own drug deals they do. It also contains the best information for the next lead in terms of taking down DIFFERENT trafficking.

A disgruntled sigh leaves Iwaizumi.  _ Another _ failure, he can’t help but come to terms to. Bitterly, might he add.

Just as he sighs, the group collectively groans around him, and Iwaizumi wants to groan with them. Or sleep. He can’t decide if he wants to sleep, eat, or train in frustration. It’s already been three years.  _ He’s eighteen now… Just like me. Does he even remember me? _ Iwaizumi stares at the ceiling for a moment, as he tilts his head back.  _ Of fucking course he remembers me, what am I thinking? _

At the sight of seeing Sugawara and Daichi trade glances, yet again, Iwaizumi looks at them. Especially after Daichi clears his throat, Iwaizumi’s attention is honed and focused on Daichi. And so is everyone else’s attention, apparently.

Daichi rolls his shoulders back as he releases a sigh, and then lowers himself into a seat at the table. He brings his hands up and then joins them together, to lean his chin on said joined hands. He closes his eyes for a moment, before opening again. The mood switches from disappointment to tense. Iwaizumi leans forward, breath held.

“We did, however…. Find a specific file that… May be of use.” He sounds uneasy.

Iwaizumi perks up. Is this their break? Are they finally close to good news? Maybe?

“We found a file… With the name of four DIFFERENTs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the time being, this is all i'll be posting!!! thank you for your support!!! <3
> 
> as usual, my socials are:  
> 🎉 twitter: sunnysideupash  
> 🎉 tumblr: sunnysideupash
> 
> feel free to shoot me a message! :'D

**Author's Note:**

> i hoped you liked the prologue!! thank you for reading!
> 
> my socials are:  
> twitter: sunnysideupash  
> tumblr: sunnysideupash
> 
> leave feedback and comments please lmao 🥺🙏


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